


When you're gone

by hellospacecadet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Street Racing, pre-kerberos, sheithmonth2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-04 23:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15157502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellospacecadet/pseuds/hellospacecadet
Summary: Keith struggles with Shiro's announcement in joining the Kerberos mission. Keith distances himself by sneaking out, only to have Shiro find and confront him to admit his real feelings.





	When you're gone

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, will update as needed.
> 
> I barely looked this over and am unwell so hopefully something comes across correctly.

Keith ticks off all the boxes of a student with a plethora of potential stifled by rebellious acts of nature. Shiro’s responsibility for him at the Garrison extended to every fight, tardy, and frequent acts of leaving campus grounds. He never minded them (though Keith did push his limits more than once). He believed in him and remained firm in his promise that Keith would grow into someone more than capable and worthy of belonging here. And that thought gently prodded his mind as he swiped his passkey over the Garrisons exit panel.

A soft blue light charged around it, scanning the credentials before dimming the light, a chime of acceptance pushing out through the tiny speakers. Shiro adjusted his seat on his hoverbike, hands loosening and regripping the break and gears as the double metal gate slide open, sending a plume of dust into the starlit night sky. A night drive would have been nicer if it had not been with the purpose of finding his favorite delinquent. He suspected Shiro’s announcement to the Kerberos mission had a lot to do with Keith’s late night absences.

The shack out in the desert remained abandoned with no signs of inhabitants since the last time they were there (having an impromptu study session rewarding their efforts with trading favorite songs overlooking the stars). That had been the first stop of the night. The bike cooled over still warm dirt from the days bright sunshine. The metal windmill creaking in the barely there breeze. 9pm was lights out and 10pm was when he realized Keith had snuck out. 10:15pm and the air was still thick with humidity, no clouds in sight to offer any relief.

Cruising down the highway, the wind ruffled the collar of his leather jacket, brain tallying off a list of other places he could check. To his knowledge there were no parties tonight, no special events where someone would want to celebrate after hours. The radius of his search was small, though in no time at all he felt himself expanding it, heaving a breath of frustration through his nostrils which promptly fogged the visor of his helmet.

“C’mon Keith.” He voice out loud to himself, giving the sides of the road a brief scan. Then he saw it.

In the distance a string of dull lights along a road that’s construction had ceased due to lack of funding. The humm of something expanded through the desert air and he pressed the breaks lightly before adjusting his route, bike groaning underneath him as the surface changed from smooth to rocky.

-x-

Altered mufflers roared down the two lane road, snarling and obnoxious beasts whose throttles were pushed too hard through the gears to attain maximum speed. It drowned out any crowd reaction in the surrounding area where only the asphalt and street lights existed. Along the strip a crowd remained as the next set of participants lined up, revving their engines impatiently.

For those who preferred to watch from a distance, comfort was found in scattered bonfires (Illegal, mused Shiro), sprouting between an array of cars that pumped music through the airwaves varying from pop to rap to eletronica. Small gatherings huddled around the fire, tipping chins back to receive bottles, bodies moving synchronously with the beat-some alone and some mashed together which had him turning his gaze elsewhere.

To say this scene was entirely foreign to him would not have been a true statement. Shiro had ‘fun’ despite how he told that Keith once and he just rolled his eyes in return. He wasn’t always mature and responsible. The Garrison cultivated him like how he wished to pass his knowledge along to Keith. But he felt out of place here, shrugging off his jacket and laying it on the seat as he parked his bike and tugged off his helmet. Wearing full gear was about safety, despite how uncomfortable his shirt was sticking to his chest, matting his forelock against his forehead.

Shiro often joked he had a sensory beacon when it came to finding Keith. At first it had been unsuccessful and taxing, now he could pick him out easily in a crowd of misguided teens. Keith sat perched on the liftgate of a large black truck, tank top clinging loosely around his lithe muscles. Those mauve-toned eyes (that had often left Shiro captivated), looked almost bored upon their company, a slender boy with brown skin and every changing hand movements. He pulled his knees up to his chest and propped his chin on them, keeping a half-finished brown bottle between his slender fingers.

Now Shiro knew Keith. Knew he’d been no stranger to fast things and loud engines. Knew he’d had quicker reflexes than most and (in his bias) could attain the unattainable when it came to flight and combat control. But he liked to think that they shared a kinship where they could talk about things rather than being avoidant. Shiro had grown accustomed to Keith growling out his frustrations.

Kerberos’ announcement triggered Keith’s fight or flight reaction, he caught the proffered up cheerful congratulations he’d given Shiro shortly after. He said said ‘This doesn’t change anything.” _Anything_. The word spoken full of unloaded truths. “I’ll be back before you know it. Hell, maybe you’ll be in space already.” Shiro added with a gentle smile, pressing his warm palm to Keith’s shoulder.

Keith could only mumble a congratulations in return, though it was earnest. Shiro suspected it had to do with abandonment than anything else, the notion of being and feeling left behind.

Keith’s looked rather petulant as Shiro and he caught eyes, surprise stifled in them but it was a struggle to do so. He thinly spread of his lips to further show his displeasure at being caught. Shiro attempted a more neutral face, the one of patience he so carefully practiced for Keith.

“Hey.” He said when he got close enough to approach, the baseline reverberated off the ground from someone's car nearby tickling the bare skin of his arms.

“Hi.” Keith replied, looking around like a cat that was ascertaining an exit before settling back on Shiro. He only had so much time before Keith shut down completely.

Shiro wordlessly picked up an open beer bottle from Keith’s hand and took a generous swig. As his adam's apple ,moved, Keith’s eyes widened, brows raising in confusion. It had been such an unexplained action, Keith remained seated, only bringing his head up.

“What are you-” He started, but stopped as Shiro brought his mouth to the bottle again and swallowed the rest of its contents (chugging beer was once a feat he could be proud of). The bubbles tickled his throat.

His broad shoulders shrugged, replying easily. “Having some fun I guess. You know I should have known you would like hover bike races.” They’d been to plenty of ‘legitimate’ ones before, but as the next set raced down the stip followed by screams and teenagers jostling each other, he could see how this atmosphere was more exciting.

“Why are you here?” Keith’s voice remained steady, but it reeked of caution. With the freshly worn shock wiped off his face, he attempted to adopt a more neutral stare. But Shiro could see the cogs turning, the subtle way his lips pursed when he was unsure of what to say. “Are you here to reprimand me?” He asked finally as Shiro moved to grab another beer from the open cooler, twisting off the cap.

A laugh rumbled in his throat, but the shake of his head stifled it from escaping past his lips. “I won’t say anything if you don’t.”

Keith’s nose scrunched up at that, waving a hand. “You're acting weird Shiro.”

“So are you. I thought we were past the point of hiding feelings.” He replied taking a step forward, gentleness in his tone. His brows wilted with a look that Keith couldn’t ignore with all his apt for disengaging conversations. Slowly his arms released his legs and they extended back outward, keeping his palms pressed to the flat of the truck bed. He was quiet a long while, intently watching the crinkle of his jeans, but Shiro let the silence drift between them with practiced care.

Nothing ever good came out of pushing Keith, not in a moment like this anyway. And he certainly didn’t want to leave after having an argument with the person that meant most to him.

“I’m really happy for you..going on your mission I mean..but-” Keith’s throat constricted preventing the words from coming out smoothly. Now his voice warbled. “Truth is I’m going to miss you.” A loose smirk formed on his lips, to try to lighten the mood. It quickly dissipated as he nodded in confirmation.

Shiro’s eyes creased around the edges at his words. There it was, the truth to his recent disappearance. The second beer was finished and he set it beside Keith on the truck bed. “I’m going to miss you too.” And it had been the honest truth. He extended his hand for Keith, the back of it casting shadows on the ground. “C’mon lets get out of here.”

Keith eyed him a moment before gripping his hand and pushing off, landing flat on both feet with no help from Shiro but he held on anyway. Shiro’s wrist rotated to adjust their hold, fingertips sweeping over his until Keith’s palm opened to intertwine them. Shiro gave his hand a squeeze, rolling his head over to him with a fond smile spread on his lips. “Think we should take these?” He questions, picking up the remaining beers from the six pack. “We should go back to the Shack, stay up all night, watch the sunrise.” Like old times.

Keith smirked, bumping into Shiro’s side softly jostling them both. “You mean like how I stay up and you fall asleep.”

“Well, yes, but it doesn't exactly sound romantic that way now does it?” Shiro breathed out, with a laugh.

“Sure it is, you snoring and drooling all over me with cracker crumbs on your face.” Keith was now laughing too picking up the pace back to Shiro’s bike. 

“Put on your helmet, I’ll drive.” He said, letting go of his hand for the favor of tossing a leg over the seat, rolling his shoulders in preparation. Shiro packs the beers securely in the storage compartment, rounding the side of the hover bike. Extending his hand, his fingers ghost over Keith’s warm cheek giving him a fond look. Keith’s lashes flutter just slightly leaning into the touch.

“Mm. Not sure. Let me check to see if you’ve had anything to drink.” He states, bending at the torso to bring his head closer to his, eyes closing.

Keith is smiling into the kiss, pecking him back the best he can. 

“Yeah, we’re good.” Shiro hums cradling Keith’s face a moment. Even in the bare minimum moonlight, he can see the way Keith’s features smooth out, passing a hand through his short crop of hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos appreciated.
> 
> Scream to me about Voltron on twitter @hellospacecadet!


End file.
